


A Capsulated Christmas

by SaiyanPrince541



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: F/M, Family, Fluff, Humor, Lemon, Mild Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-20 07:09:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13141614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaiyanPrince541/pseuds/SaiyanPrince541
Summary: Bulma wears a highly provocative outfit for Christmas dinner and Vegeta's barely able to control his hormones. Will our favourite Prince's sexual frustration blow into something too dangerous to be controlled... or will Bulma come up with a solution to hold him over for the night? Find out and may you all have a Merry Christmas!! :D





	A Capsulated Christmas

_A/N: Merry Christmas everyone!! So here's a sweet, funny and steamy VegeBul Christmas collab for my awesome friends NekoLover628 and loveveggiehead! Hope you enjoy!_  
  
_[Beautiful art](https://nekolover628.deviantart.com/art/A-Capsulated-Christmas-721843471) by [NekoLover628](https://nekolover628.deviantart.com/)_  
  
  
  
A Capsulated Christmas:  
  
"Mommy?" The two-year tottered into her parents' bedroom, dressed in a powder-pink dress that was embossed with white lilies and had short bell-sleeves, over a snow-white pair of polyester PJs. "Daddy?"</p>

The Prince let out a weary groan, his eyelids fluttering open. With as little noise as possible, he sat up from his bedside, wincing at the slight creak. He groggily rubbed his eyes and stared quizzically at the minuscule form, awkwardly standing at the doorway.

"I'm hung-wee." Bra whined.

Vegeta placed an index finger on his lips, tacitly urging her to keep her voice down, before cautiously clambering out of bed and tiptoeing towards the tiny toddler. He scooped her up in his arms and headed downstairs to the kitchen, not wanting to rouse Bulma from her slumber, since it was barely dawn. She'd come home late last night and they needed to prepare for Christmas, come the morning. The entire crew was invited to Capsule Corporation and a lot of work lay ahead of them.

"Alright, what do you want to eat?" The Prince asked, once he seated Bra in a high chair and fastened a polka-dotted, sea-blue bib around her shoulders.

"Gummy worms!" The child squealed excitedly, throwing her hands up high.

"No!" Vegeta frantically repudiated, with a horrified grimace, icy chills rushing down his strapping figure. "No worms!"

"No wormies?" Bra gasped, her bottom lip trembling and her large cerulean eyes beginning to water up, as she sniffled. The Prince was instantly wracked with alarm, knowing that any second now, his daughter would burst into a clamorous fit of tears, which could very well stir the entire city block to an unwelcoming wake.

"I- What I mean to say is that uh-" Darn it, he needed to think of something fast! "Gummies aren't a breakfast food."

"Weally?" The toddler suddenly went wide-eyed with curiosity.

"Yes." The tremulous Prince affirmed. "But aside from that, you must never eat worms." He added grimly, narrowing his eyes and positioning himself, so he was face level with Bra. "Worms are the embodiment of all evil and if you eat them, you become evil for three whole days and Santa doesn't give you any presents."

A tense moment of deliberation followed, after which Bra fervidly nodded in agreement.

"Okay, no wormies."

'Phew.' Vegeta inwardly sighed in relief, wiping off the beads of sweat dappled on his damp forehead. That went down a whole lot easier than he'd expected.

"Jelly babies?" The half-Saiyan asked.

"No, you mustn't eat those either." He cautioned. Gods, this spoiled girl was up to her ears in junk-food. Didn't she realize that stuff was bad for her? "What you need it a good wholesome treat."

"Ho-sum?" She narrowed her eyes inquisitively.

"Yes." The Prince nodded. "I'm going warm up some oatmeal for you."

Bra didn't know what oatmeal was, but it sounded pleasant and so she decided to go with it. The flame-haired warrior dropped a sachet of quick oats into a bowl, before pouring a cup-and-a-half of milk over it and placing it in the microwave, for a nice two-minute heat. Once that was done, he pulled it out, added three teaspoons of sugar, stirred and set it on his daughter's tray. She looked at him expectantly and he cursed under his breath. Couldn't this entitled brat do anything herself?! Vegeta begrudgingly gathered up a spoonful of porridge, softly blowing on it and proceeding to feed his voracious, blue-haired cub.

"Yummy!" Bra gushed in delight after having a taste. She avidly indulged in the rest of the sweet, savory goodness of the soft, steaming breakfast cereal. "More?" She earnestly asked her father, once the bowl was empty, an imploring gleam in her dazzling, azure eyes- Gods, they were just like her mothers. Unable to deny her, the Prince grumbled under his breath and prepared another serving of oatmeal. Ten bowls later, the ebullient baby was finally sated and Vegeta was an exhausted mess. Darn girl! How could she eat so much and at the same time, be so little?!

Vegeta was wiping the milky residue off Bra's chin with a napkin, when Bulma walked in and witnessed the breathtaking scene, instantly engulfed with an overwhelming deluge of warmth and giddiness, her heart fluttering towards the skies. Even after all these years, it was a rare pleasure to witness the more tender side to her sullen husband. She was going to announce her presence there and then, but before that she furtively pulled out her smartphone and took a surreptitious snap, tucking it away just as fast in order to prevent Vegeta from getting wind. The last time she captured him doing something sweet on camera, he'd disintegrated the hapless device.

"Merry Christmas, lovelies." She strolled over to the duo, a mischievous grin embedded on her waggish features.

"Mommy!" Bra bubbled, holding her stubby arms out. The blue-haired mother gathered up the tiny bundle, cuddling her close.

"Why aren't you in bed?" Vegeta glowered at his wife, evidently displeased at having been caught in such a compromising position.

"Well, I guess I'm no longer used to sleeping alone anymore." She gave him a naughty wink, whereby his face flushed a good three shades of crimson.

"Merry Christmas mom, Merry Christmas dad." Trunks casually sauntered into the kitchen, his hairy mussy and eyes half-lidded. "Merry Christmas Bra." The bleary boy beamed at his effervescent baby sister.

"Twunksie!" The toddler enthused and practically jumped into his arms.

"Whoa, easy there squirt." The older half-Saiyan was barely able to catch the pouncing girl.

"Merry Christmas Trunks." Bulma greeted, kneeling down and planting a protracted kiss on his cheek, to the boy's utter embarrassment.

"Mom." He protested, face turning beet red.

"Hmph." Vegeta sulkily shot his nose in the air.

"Well, I think I'm gonna sleep a while longer." The heiress yawned, stretching her arms out wide. "Trunks, would you mind looking after your sister for a few more hours?"

The lavender-haired demi-Saiyan was about to object, but the yearning look on Bra's face prevented him from doing so.

"Sure thing, mom." He sighed in resignation.

Bulma gestured for her husband to follow and so he trailed after her, back upstairs.

Nightfall...

Less than an hour remained before Christmas dinner. Bulma accoutred a lavish halter neck gown that fell down to her toes. Ornamented along the lower half of the ostentatious keyhole neckline, were a brilliant trim of lustrous diamonds, fashioned in an elaborate V-outline. She'd grown her hair over the last few months and fixed it up in a shoulder length blunt style, with bangs neatly fashioned on the front. Once she'd finished painting her nails a glistening scarlet, the heiress put on an open-toe pair of gleaming black stilettos. After pinning a matching set of silver, four-leaf clover studs to her ears, she was finally done sprucing herself up.

"God, you are looking hot, girl!" She preened, as she stood in front of the full-length bedroom mirror. The showy crimson garb was cut excessively high on the left-hand side, at approximately upper hip-level, revealing an obscene amount of creamy, mouthwatering leg skin. Vegeta's breath hitched, as he entered the room and ogled at the mesmerizing reflection of the vulgar seductress.

"What the hell do you think you're wearing?!" He demanded, at a mind-numbing cross between alarm and arousal, leaning more and more towards the latter, with each passing second.

"Like what you see babe?" She whirled around, raising a devilish brow.

"You- You're not seriously going to wear that, are you?!" The flustered Prince gasped, a stream of blood percolating through his burning loins.

"Oh no, I just put it on for the heck of it." Bulma sarcastically rolled her eyes. "Of course I'm gonna wear it, you dolt."

"That is the most indecent set of garments I've ever seen!" He growled at her, severely appalled. "And considering the way you normally dress, that's saying a lot!"

"Alright, I'll admit it's a little over-the-top, but so what?!" She frowned. "I look like a freaking goddess. Besides, you shouldn't be complaining." She smirked suggestively, ambling towards him and swaying her curvaceous hips, all the while. The sultry staccato of her high heels grew louder as she drew closer, right alongside the pounding thrum of Vegeta's accelerating heart. He stiffened, as the entrancing heiress wound her slim arms around his sinewy frame, pressing her lithe form against his. "The others may look if they want, but you're the only one who gets to touch. Consider it an honor."

"D-Damn you Bulma." He stammered, unable to resist her beguiling charms. From what little he knew, Christmas was meant to be a day of holiness and virtue, yet his lewd wife radiated with sin and sacrilege, no matter what day it was. She placed her glossy, bare thigh between his legs, teasing his hardening crotch. Any willpower he had left, quickly absconded from the dwindling recesses of Vegeta's mind, right alongside the last vestiges of breath remaining in his immobile lungs. As Bulma shifted her face closer to his, he docilely parted his lips, knowing that one way or another he was bound to surrender.

"You know, as much as I'd love to screw your brains out right now, we can't bear the risk of running late." She gave her husband an apologetic look, as a bitter scowl laced his grouchy features. "Sorry Vegeta, but it'll have to wait. Plus, I know how much you hate it when I smear lipstick all over that cute little face of yours." Winking impishly, she traced his M-shaped hairline with the tip of her nose, before exiting the scene.

The Prince seethed to himself, thoroughly vexed. Not only did stir his libido, but she had the gall to call him "cute" and then just up-and-leave as if nothing happened! It was like dangling a half-peeled banana in front of a ravenous chimpanzee and then leaving the poor creature to wither- not that it was appropriate to liken himself to a simian or his wife to a fruit. Unwilling to endure the excruciating agony of blue balls for the next five hours or so, Vegeta dashed towards the heiress, abruptly snatching her and whisking her right back into the bedroom.

"Hey wait!" She yelped, as he tossed her on the bed like a sack of rice and climbed on top, burying his nose within her ample bosom and inhaling deep. "Hold it, mister!" Bulma fulminated. "I had this outfit custom-made and I've waited months, for a chance to wear it! There's no way in hell I'm gonna let you ruin this one, you understand?!"

As the Prince rubbed his face against her plush breasts, he found himself to be rather allured by the charmeuse material, hampering his journey towards the prize that lay within. It was unlike anything else he'd come across. He suddenly felt as though the ornate gown was a part of her and he just didn't have it in him to blemish it.

"Hey, did you hear me?!"

"I heard you." He breathed rather gently and something about the way he said it, made Bulma's heart skip a beat, stomach instantly flooding with a bustling barrage of resplendent butterflies. It was then that she noticed him delicately running his fingers along the soft, satiny fabric. Realization hit her that he was drawn by the provocative outfit so much so that he refused to ravage it, the way he normally did. For long moments, the Prince alternated between trailing his hands and nose down her tantalizing, porcelain skin and the fascinating texture of the flimsy material covering it. Lower and lower he went, planting soft, lingering kisses on her thigh that made her whimper, a sharp surge of scorching desire flooding through her. "Take the dress off." He mumbled against her heated centre.

"Vegeta c-come on, we don't have time." She objected, in spite of all the base instincts screaming at her to jump his bones.

"Hey mom, dad- oh my God!" The lavender-haired half-Saiyan gasped, placing his hands over his mouth in shock, as he saw his father's face immersed deep inside the high-slit of his mother's revealing dress.

"Trunks!" Bulma shrieked, alarm bells blaring in her swarming mind, as she shoved away the desirous Saiyan's flaming head and hurriedly covered her exposed leg.

"Get out of here now brat!" A rubescent Vegeta yelled furiously, cursing himself for not having locked the damn door!

"Y-Y-Yes sir!" Trunks squeaked and instantly darted elsewhere, trying desperately to unsee what he'd seen. It was too much for his innocent young mind to take.

"Dammit, what the heck?!" The heiress scowled, bopping her husband's head, in admonishment. "This is all  _your_  fault!"

"What?!" He snarled in outrage. "That's bullshit! You're the one who smothered yourself all over me and then left me hanging there, with a stray boner!"

"Stray boner?! Why you-" Bulma furiously got to her feet and straightened out her dress. "You know what?! Screw you! I don't have time for this! I've got work to do!"

"You're damn right!" The wroth Prince ground his teeth, gripping her by the arms. "Your very first order of business is to finish off what you started!"

"I can't, darn it!" She hissed back. "We've barely got forty minutes left!"

"I don't care if we have ten minutes!" He seethed. "I refuse to walk around with an untended erection, especially if you're going to dangle yourself in front of me the whole time, wearing  _that_!"

"You- freaking- ugh goddamn you." The heiress sighed in surrender, louring at her mulish husband. "Fine, go the shower-room and I'll give you a hand-job. Happy?"

"What?!" He protested. "No way! As if that'll be enough to-"

"Look, I don't have time to primp myself all over again!" She snapped. "It's a hand-job or no job. Your choice."

"How about a blow-job?" He asked, a hopeful gleam in his rapacious, ebony eyes. Gods that cherry lipstick of hers was to die for! Just imagining those glossy DSLs wound around his hankering phallus, as she leisurely sucked away, made him want to spurt right on the spot.

"How about a fucking slap across the face?!" She ruddily fumed, whereby her husband flinched in a rare display of fright. "You know, you're such an asshole! You don't like me rubbing lipstick on your face, but you're more than happy to have it on your cock, right?!"

"That's because no one can see my-"

"You're right, they can't see it." Bulma cut him off. "But they can still see my lips and believe it or not, sometimes it's pretty obvious when a girl's hitting it below the belt, especially with a cock as big as yours."

"Okay, okay fine!" He quickly relented, blushing profusely at her shameless evaluation of his renowned length. "But you'd better not rush this. I want this to last for at least a good five minutes."

"Well if that's the case, I suggest you stop talking and get your ass inside, cause the clock's ticking."

Not needing to be told twice, the Prince rushed into the door nearby, Bulma hot on his heels.

"Hey, I've got an idea." The heiress grinned. "Something that'll make this way more fun. Hold on a second." She went back into the room and brought her I-Pad over.

"What's this for?" The Prince asked, crinkling his brows.

"Last month, I had a private photo shoot done, during my trip to North City and- well- let's just say I didn't have any clothes on."

"What?!" Vegeta sucked in a breath, his face going beet-red. "How could you show yourself to others like-"

"Relax, Vegetables." The heiress rolled her eyes. The Saiyan scowled at the vexatious sobriquet. "The photographer happened to be a woman, so you've nothing to worry about- although now that I think about it, she may have shown a little too much interest." She let out a few tremulous laughs. "Not that I can really blame her of course hehe."

"Whatever, stop talking." Vegeta growled, snatching her I-Pad. His eyes practically bulged out of his sockets, as he sifted through indecent images of his wife, one after another. How could she depict herself like that- to anyone?! Despite any objections he may have had, however, he had to admit that it really got his gears rolling. He decided that this would make good jerk-off material, whenever Bulma wasn't around- not that she needed to know of course, else he'd never hear the end of it.

"Alright I guess it's time." The raunchy heiress went behind her husband, caressing his protruding pectorals with her dainty left hand, while her dexterous right brushed his washboard abs. She marvelled at the way his skin prickled in response to her tantalizing touch. After all the years, her effect on him hadn't mitigated in the slightest. "Whoa, that one's crazy hot." Bulma sensually murmured in Vegeta's ear, as he came across a shot of her stretching her toned leg high into the air, a perfectly straight angle lined along her crux. The Prince's stomach wound up tight, at the sultry sound of her titillating voice in conjunction with the alluring image. "Keep going." Vegeta did just that, eyes glued to the screen, as he flicked through the erotic gallery with a trembling finger, heart racing all the while. Most of the poses were rather simplistic variations of her lying on the sofa and coyly peering into the camera, but what really aroused him was the way she would cover her forbidden areas, in some mock-semblance of modesty- as if she even knew the meaning of that word.

The heiress embarked on a steady journey towards the South and finally slipped her hand inside Vegeta's grey, drawstring pants, wrapping her nifty digits around his engorged length, whereby he let out an amorous groan of pleasure. Slowly, she began stroking back and forth, kneading just the right spots. The Saiyan's onyx eyes fluttered, as a white-hot current of electricity jolted through his throbbing staff. Oh God, did he even need the I-Pad anymore when he had the real deal working him towards the heavens?! Bulma ground herself against him and he ran a hand along the galvanizing length her naked leg, reveling in the invigorating feel of her perfect, porcelain skin. Oh God, he wanted to do so many things with her right now, but sadly time wouldn't allow it.

A short while later...

"That was- rejuvenating." The placid Prince let out a rare, euphoric laugh, as a volley of endless endorphins swam along the cooling thoroughfares of his tranquil bloodstream.

"This isn't fair, you know." Bulma grumbled peevishly, arms akimbo. "You've been thinking about yourself the whole time, but now you've gotten me all hot-and-bothered and I can't do anything, cause the gang'll be here any minute now."

"Hn." Vegeta was barely listening, instead reveling in the jubilant aftermath of the stimulating session.

"You owe me big time, Vegeta." The heiress frowned, a determined look on her face, which tacitly said that a debt was owed and that she  _would_  be collecting. "Once the party's over, you're gonna be my personal fuck toy for the entire night, you got me? You won't even be allowed to breathe, without my permission." She resolutely vowed. "I swear to God, I'm gonna do unspeakable things to you!"

"Do your worst." The Saiyan grinned, readily accepting her demand. Gods, it was so hot the way she took charge like that, this fucking sexy bitch. At times like this, he wondered how he'd ever endured life, without her.

"Oh I will, don't you worry."

Not long afterwards, Bulma and Trunks were finally done decorating the Christmas tree with a colorful set of glistening stars, bells, baubles and other trinkets, all linked together with a gleaming, gold tinsel.

"Uh, mom?" The tremulous boy asked.

"What is it, sweetie?"

"I- uh- I was just wondering." He anxiously bit his lip. "What was dad doing to you in the bedroom, earlier?"

"Trunks, I really can't talk about it." She answered sheepishly, face flushed. "You see, it's a grown up-thing. Please do me a favor and forget whatever it is you saw."

"I'll try." He awkwardly mumbled, following a pregnant pause, hoping against hope that he could rid himself of the disturbing images flitting across his tormented and traumatized mind.  
  
Seconds later, Vegeta walked by, holding Bra in his arms. The baby turned towards her mother, gaping in wonderment.  
  
"Mom so pwitty!!!" She rhapsodizded, grinning wide.  
  
"Aw thanks pumpkin." Bulma patted her cheek. She was going to kiss her, but then remembered that she had lipstick on and that wouldn't be good for either of them. Just then the doorbell rang and Bulma answered it, met by Krillin and co. on the other side.

"My God, Bulma." Eighteen gasped, as she slowly looked her up and down, drinking in the stunning, spellbinding sight of her dreamy, divine dress and the alluring anatomy that came with it. Boy, if she weren't hetero she didn't know if she would have the willpower to hold herself together in a situation like this. "You always did have a striking sense for fashion."

"Thanks L." She winked, bubbling inwardly at the praise. The heiress had recently taken to calling the once-human "L", in reference to her birth name, Lazuli. Eighteen didn't object. With an embrace, she led the cheerful family inside. The guests began rolling in one after the other, all mesmerized by Bulma's grandiose gown.

"Wow Bulma, that's an amazing outfit you got on." Videl remarked, in absolute awe. "Makes you look at least fifteen years younger."

"Thanks Videl, you're looking really hot yourself." She grinned. Her sexual frustrations from before were steadily forgotten, as she revelled in the major ego-boost she received from each and every one of her friends. The sexy scientist knew then that she'd definitely chosen well.

"Gosh Bulma, just seeing you right now, I kinda wish that I hadn't let Vegeta snatch you away from me, know what I mean?" Yamcha jested.

"Hey Bulma, you're looking mighty fine there, kiddo hehehe." Master Roshi grinned lasciviously, his prurient gaze fixated upon her exquisitely enticing bust. "I just wanna get my hands all over-"

"You want to die old man?!" Vegeta snarled, pinning the terrified Turtle Hermit to the wall, his flaming head of hair turning gold of its own volition, eyes a deathly teal.

"E-E-Easy there, V-Vegeta." The ribald geezer stammered, panic-ridden rivulets of perspiration streaming down his forehead, as he was beset with unabated horror.

"You'd better keep your eyes to yourself, unless you wish to be emasculated!"

"Okay, okay!" Roshi frantically waved his hands in surrender, not wanting to lose the most treasured chunks of his anatomy.

Other than that unfortunate incident, the event had gone by rather smoothly. Come dinnertime, a resplendent selection of dishes were lined up along the centre of a long, oaken, refectory table: grilled mackerel, barbecued t-bones, chicken wings, breast fillets and thigh fillets, fried eggplant with a side of marinara, wonton noodle soup, shawarma, pho and a giant, oven-baked turkey, enriched and marinated with the finest seasonings known to man. As they crew basked in the mouthwatering meals before them, a series of conversations were struck up, smiles and laughter ringing across the genial atmosphere of Capsule Corporation.

"Hey Trunks, you're been acting weird all day." Goten frowned at his best friend once dinner was over.

"Sorry Goten." The lavender-haired boy blushed, standing in a corner all by his lonesome. "It's just- I think I saw something that I wasn't supposed to see."

"Really?!" Goku's youngest perked up, in excitement. "Was it a big scary monster?!"

"No, you idiot." Trunks snorted. "Seriously, is that all you ever think about? God, you're such a child." He rolled his eyes. "Anyway, this is kind of awkward, but- uh- have you ever noticed your parents doing anything- you know- weird?"

"Gee, I don't know Trunks." Goten tilted his head up, musing. "But now that I think about it, I did hear some strange noises coming from their room the other night."

"Oh."

"Yeah, I asked mom about it and she told me that it's a grown-up thing."

"That's exactly what my mom said." Trunks sighed.

"Hey, I've got it!" Goten grinned. "They were probably fighting monsters together, in secret!"

"Uh- yeah, maybe I guess." The older half-Saiyan let out a guilty chuckle, somewhat glad that at least his younger counterpart was able to preserve his innocence.

"Wow, that's so cool!" Goten enthused.

"Uh huh, that's one way to put it."

Supper never failed to cheer up Trunks, no matter his mood and this time, it was no different. Strawberry trifle, flan pudding, creme brûlée, fresh glazed donuts, millie crepes, black forest cake and cookie dough ice-cream were on the menu, along with a vibrant variety of other dessert specials, all of which made the demi-Saiyan overlook his horrible, harrowing experience. As he indulged himself, Bra came along and he placed her on his lap, sharing food from his own plate with the giddy girl.

"Wow, you actually got me something, Vegeta?" Goku beamed, as he graciously accepted the present being offered up by his cantankerous rival. "That's a first." He untied the red ribbon and began to open up his gift. "You know, it amazes me how much you've changed over the years, especially since- AAAARRRRGGGGHHHH!" The Saiyan abruptly yawped, tossing away the object before him as though it were an unpinned grenade and huddling fearfully against the farthest corner he could find. The other crew members looked on in bafflement, wondering what could've triggered such a frightful response from Earth's dauntless hero.

"Oh." Gohan was the first one to put the pieces together, as he noticed a giant syringe inside the box that his father had just thrown.

"That is  _not_  funny Vegeta!" Goku groused indignantly, though his flame-haired rival felt otherwise, clutching his stomach and guffawing loudly at the younger Saiyan's expense. Vegeta's mirth was practically contagious and very soon, the entire clique was howling with laughter, well- except Goku of course, who glowered at the lot of them. How could they treat a legitimate grievance, so facetiously? Didn't they realize how dangerous and horrific those needles were?! He still had nightmares to this very day, following his traumatic experience at Wukong Hospital.

All in all, it turned out to be a wonderful day for the motley bunch. The farewells were delivered and the guests left the capsulated complex, smiling and sated. And now came Bulma's piece de resistance. The enlivened heiress was thrilled and overjoyed at the prospect of having Vegeta to herself for the rest of the night. He was hers to do with as she pleased and oh boy, did she have some wonderful, kinky ideas in mind.

_A/N: Gotta say, I really enjoyed writing the Vegeta/Bra stuff, but also the family moments in general and let's not forget Bulma's **handiwork** , if you know what I'm Saiyan xD. Please leave me your thoughts and hit the review button and be sure to check out NekoLover628's awesome art, for she is a very fine artist indeed!_


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